


The Unknown Agent

by DRAMAticalNinja



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alcohol, Backstory, Childhood Trauma, F/M, Fights, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Mental Breakdown, Missions, Missions Gone Wrong, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Project Freelancer, Social Anxiety, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-03-31 11:44:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3976834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRAMAticalNinja/pseuds/DRAMAticalNinja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The other freelancers had never heard of her but that was the way she wanted it.<br/>She never intended to interact with any of them, she chose solitary a long time ago and that was the way she liked it. </p><p>But things can never last forever, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Prologue**

  
The compound was silent other than the odd footstep shift or comment from the silver-clothed guards. It was past nightfall and the temperature was just above freezing; the crescent moon covered by the masses of dull clouds. The white and ice blue clad figure stood crouched behind the wall of the first building, having already made it past the first enemy guard at the entrance. They were easy, their guard was down and it only took a quick movement and a favoured knife to the chink in the armour at the neck for them to go down.

Staying hidden, the figure surveyed the area around the corner. It was just as the documents had said. Two buildings at the front connected by a sky walk with a steel barb wired gate in between. A third building across the courtyard and a ten and a half foot reinforced metal fence surrounding the whole compound. That part has already been taken care of though, thanks to the idiot guard. The objective was inside the building the armoured figure was currently crouched behind but it wasn't that easy. Like everything else, the walls were thick and impenetrable from the outside. The only weak point was the entrance door, the figure’s goal. And of course, to top it all off, there were multiple guards separating the figure from their goal.

The figure took a deep breath, although it went unnoticed to all. Final checks to weapon positions were made, fingers drifting over the length of their attack model 14 knife unconsciously yet in tradition. Swiftly standing and reaching into their back pouch taking out a single spike grenade, they speak, the voice deep and robotic yet easily recognised as smug.

“Show time, boys.”

The figure sprints into the gap between buildings, launching the spike grenade and having it land between the two silver guards on the sky walk, killing them with a pained cry as they fell forwards, one off the bridge. The figure doesn’t stop to see though as they continue on, taking the saw machine gun they carry off their shoulders and releasing a mag into the three guards on the building ledge above. Shouting could be heard and an alarm was blaring. The figure paid no attention. They easily jumped up the metal boarded windowsills and onto the top of the building. Another guard was running towards them, pistol in hand. Unclipping the empty mag, they launching it at the incoming guard, hitting their helmet, cracking it slightly. Running forwards to meet them, placing the saw back in its place, the figure punches them in their cracked helmet, sending them off the buildings top and into the barbed wire on the gate.

The ice coloured figure doesn’t pause and moves across the bridge, pulling the spiker from their waist and shooting another enemy guard. A second time as they run past, listening for the pained cry. Another guard was incoming, holding their standard pistol. Dodging to the left as they shoot, the bullet just grazing their icy armour, the figure responds with vigour, firing multiple shots from the spiker. Before the enemy can recover, the figure, eyeing another enemy incoming from the left, charges towards the injured. Not letting them stumble backwards, the figure twists them towards the other stabbing the spiker in a chink in their armour, hearing them cough what is assumed to be blood in their helmet.

Not sparing the now delirious guard a glance, the figure pushes them forwards and into the new oncoming guard, causing them both to fall to the ground. Not expecting a retaliation so fast, the figure falls as the new guard grasps there ankle before standing. They withdraw their pistol, muttering to themselves about “not being enough for this shit”, and pull the trigger on the laid down ice figure.

“What the—!” the guard looks in shock as the iced figure seemed to have moved a meter to the left of where he shot. Rolling to one knee, the figure takes advantage of his pause and sends a kick backwards. Curses can be heard as he tumbles off the building. Getting to their feet, the figures dusts themselves off before jumping off the building into the courtyard, withdrawing their saw gun once more. As they land in a crouch, they input a new mag and shoot the two fumbling and panicked guards on top of the third building.

Turning towards the entrance goal, the figure’s saw gun is kicked out of their hands by one of two incoming enemies. Reacting fast, they grab the offending leg and flip them over their shoulder and across the courtyard. Good, only one vs one now. Turning back to the other, the figure finds the standard pistol in their face and thanks their reflexes as they grasp their wrist and alters the others aim just in time. Ears ringing from the shot, the figure twists the enemy wrist and watches the gun drop as they hear a sharp crack.

Stumbling backwards in pain, the figure takes advantage and double kicks the enemy guard, launching them backwards into the buildings strong wall. Twelve down, one to go. Turning towards the final guard, the ice clan figure jumps to avoid the incoming bullets. Kicking off the wall, the figure somersaults and twists in mid-air, grabbing the last enemy by the shoulders and pulling them down with them. Wrapping their legs around his throat, the figure squeezes ignoring the clawing at their legs. The last enemy gasps and splutters, trying to refill his lungs with precious oxygen. But it’s to no avail as he finally stills.

Sighing, the figure pushes the body off their own and stands, stretching their muscles. Walking towards the entrance goal, they pull a plasma grenade from their back pouch, tossing it lazily at the shutter door.

“This is getting too easy.” The robotic voice sounds again, murmuring whilst the figure paces, waiting for entrance to the now empty compound building. The explosion sounds, and the figure walks through the burning metal.

The warehouse was empty except for the mission objective, sitting suspiciously in the centre with a light beam on it. The figure ventures slowly towards it. “Why’s there no other guards?” The figure questions themselves, becoming wary.

As they reach the objective, the figure scans the surrounding area. Nothing seems out of place. It can’t be this easy though. Deciding to just find out, the figure grabs the cargo and curses as new shutters fall over the exit. The blaring alarms turn off. The lights turn out except glowing red dots pointing directly at the figure.

“Shit”

The figure sprints towards the exit, hearing shots firing at their previous locations. Crashing into the shutters, the figure closes their eyes and activates the ice armour’s abilities once more, teleporting out of the building to the other side before collapsing to their knees, securing the package under their arm.

Reaching to their radio, they turn it on.

“Command, come in” The figure takes a deep breath. “This is Agent Alaska confirming the package is in my possession and requesting immediate evac. My armour is drained and damaged”

“Affirmative, Agent Alaska. Evac will be there shortly. Out”

The figure takes deep breaths before unclasping their helmet, letting it fall to the ground. Their light blonde locks fall in front of the feminine yet scarred face. As the rumbling sounds of the evac chopper reach her ears and her golden eyes, Alaska sighs in relief.

Another mission successfully completed.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

 

"Excellent work, Agent Alaska. You're dismissed" The director turned his back to the agent, arms folded in his usual stance, continuing whatever work he left when the agent came to debrief. Alaska stayed were she was though; she was rather confused.

"Sir, permission to speak" Her voice was light and uncharacteristically timid, the last thing she wanted to do was piss off the director. She didn't want more unnecessary scars to add to her unfortunately growing collection.

The director spoke without turning around, his southern drawl having a slight unusual edge to it. "Granted, agent."

"Sir, you haven't assigned me another mission." That was usually how these debriefings went, ever since Alaska requested to become a solo agent. Mission after mission, it was better this way. At least for her. Less interacting with others, well, except those she was going to kill. It had been at least 18 months since she'd last not been given a mission and that was due to injury reasons.

Sighing, the director turned slightly to acknowledge his agent, shifting his glasses up his nose slightly. "You damaged your armour, agent. How do you expect to do a mission without it?" His tone had an underlying of annoyed.

Clenching her fists slightly at the acknowledgement of her mishap, Alaska begins to argue "Sir, I could borrow another set of armour, sir. I am capable of completing missions without -"

"You know that isn't possible, Alaska," The director speaking louder as he interrupted, "due to your particular size we have no other suits to fit you." Alaska curses, she knows the director is right. Her height has always been an issue in her life, it even made them question her entry into Project Freelancer. Thankfully she was good at what she did and a custom armour set was the easy solution to the problem.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to speak calmly, "Of course, sir. Forgive my insolence. If I may ask, how long until I can return to duty?"

"Just around a week, agent. Now, dismissed" He has already turned his back from the agent dismissively once more.

"A week? But -"

"I said, dismissed agent!" The director has raised his voice again, slight anger slipping into his tone. Alaska knew better than to test his patience any further so she bit her teeth together and turned swiftly towards the command room exit with long strides.

 

* * *

 

 

Alaska paused outside of the command room. Placing one hand against the wall, she takes deeps breaths to steady herself. She struggles to be around people, especially for a long time. It was the reason she took mission after mission, so that she could avoid the other members of Project Freelancer. She couldn't remember the last time she had a conversation longer than a minute with anyone other than the director. And if she did, the agent had probably killed them since. It was one of her many self-proclaimed flaws. But what could she do? It was _his_ fault anyway.

After precisely 52 seconds of deep breathing and steading herself, Alaska straightened herself up and made to walk down the corridor, turning left in the direction of the armoury. It wasn't a long walk from command, just a few left turns and down a couple flights of stairs. Just passing the large windows showing the training room, she could see two figures sparring each other. A light blue figure, who seemed to be winning against the black and yellow one. Turning her head away, they weren't of interest to her, she entered the armoury just to the left.

The man who run the armoury met her as she walked it, directing her to remove her armour and check back in the weapons. After checking them in, her fingers twitch unhappily at removing her armour. It was her mask, her shield to protect her from others in the world. Sighing regrettably, she reaches up and unclasps her helmet, hearing the telling hiss of revealing herself to her world. She slowly removes the rest of her armour, leaving her in just her training pants and jacket. And of course, her attack mark 14 knife which never leaves her person.

The armoury man nods at her in thanks before telling her that her armour will be ready to be picked up in 6-7 days.

Upon leaving the armoury, Alaska moves quickly, hoping to avoid being seen by others, towards her next destination. The locker room. Despite having her own room at the base, she kept her few personal belongings in her locker since most of the other Freelancers haven't heard of her, she thinks they are more likely to enter her room than her locker. That and she has only ever been to her room once or twice as they're at the other end of the base. The locker room is much closer to command and the mission exit area.

Alaska keeps her head down as she enters the locker room, she can hear others moving and talking upon her entrance. Swiftly moving past the two armoured freelancers she recognises as the ones from the training room, she reaches the back corner of the locker room where her locker is situated. Ignoring the confused chatter about her, she enters her combination. Her mother's birthdate. She smiles at the thought of her mother, fingers unconsciously running along her knife. Opening her locker, she grabs her grey knapsack style bag containing her personal belongings before quickly closing her locker. Taking her black freelancer baseball cap out of her bag, she pulls it on, sliding her long blonde ponytail through the gap and pulling it low over her face.

"Hey, you!"

Alaska kept her head down, continuing to face her locker, she knew that the other woman was talking to her but chose not to interact. The less contact she made with others this week the better.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!"

The woman's annoyed voice is closer this time so it's no surprise when an armoured hand twists around Alaska's shoulder yet she can't silence her escaped gasp at the contact. The woman who turned her around was significantly taller than Alaska (but then again, who wasn't?) with fiery red hair pulled back into a ponytail and bright, almost neon, green eyes that looked so familiar glaring down at Alaska. Her armour was a light blue and Alaska immediately confirmed her as the armoured figure who was winning in the training room. Peering around her, she could also recognise the black and yellow armoured figure standing with their arms crossed, leaning against the other side of lockers.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" Alaska's attention is directed back to the riled woman trapping her against the lockers, "This area is for Freelancers only!"

Alaska merely sighs, routinely hiding the panic she feels inside her. This is one of the reasons she hates forced breaks from missions; too much explaining, too much interaction. Alaska puts on her unbothered façade, avoiding regrettable eye contact under her cap.

"I hate to break it to you, blue, I am a freelancer." Alaska folds her arms and puts on her best unaffected stance, her voice revealing nothing about her.

The women above her scoffs, pushing more pressure into her shoulder. "You? A freelancer? Please, as if I'd believe that. Anyway if that is true, how come we've never seen you around before?"

"Trust me, blue, the only reason you've never seen me is because the director trusts me with solo missions." Alaska's mouth twitches up into a cruel smile, wanting to end this communication as quickly as possible, "And if you don't believe me, why don't you just go ask your _daddy_."

The blue agent's reaction was instantaneous, pushing the smaller agent roughly against the lockers and holding her forearm against her unarmored throat. "Little bitch, how the fuck do you know about that?!"

Alaska coughed out, her feet barely touching the floor. " _I'm_ not stupid" she managed to gargle out before the blue's grip strengthened.

"Carolina!"

The black and yellow figure called out to the blue, Carolina, in warning and she loosened her tight grip, causing Alaska to slide to the floor panting. Alaska didn't have to look up to know the fiery blue had stormed out of the locker room, she could hear a locker being destroyed.

Pushing herself into a sitting position, she could sense the black and yellow agent stalking towards her. Ignoring the offered helping hand, Alaska pulls herself to her feet, trying to avoid conversation with the other but unfortunately for her, that wasn't the case.

"Hey, I'm sorry about Carolina. She's got a bit of a temper on her." Alaska only nods in response to the black and yellow clan man, wanting to leave this situation quickly.

"Anyway, I'm Agent Washington, you can just call me Wash though." Washington finished his sentence with a smug smile and wink in Alaska's direction causing her to internally shudder. Not one of these guys. When Alaska didn't offer her own name, Washington broke the awkward silence once more.

"...so, what's your name then?"

Alaska sighed before her reply of "Agent Alaska". She turns to make her retreat and barely covers her flinch as Agent Washington grabs her arm to hold her back. She didn't like being around this man, especially when he was essentially fully armoured and she was not. His face portrayed one of innocence, with lightly wavy blonde locks, pale skin and freckled cheeks, but Alaska had been deceived by looks before and never will she again.

"Hold on a second there." His voice was light, like he meant no harm. "Alaska, huh? Well if you ever get cold at night, you can always come find me." He finished with another wink and smile, more boyish this time. "How about we go to the mess hall and I'll introduce you to the other freelancers. Maybe we can get to know each other better?" Agent Washington takes a step closer to Alaska, whose covered eyes widen at the proximity. "How about it, Al?"

The nickname was the last straw and Alaska pulls herself out of Washington's strong grip, taking several steps back. With as much fury and disgust as she can manage in her panic, she tells him " **No** " before swiftly turning and stalking out of the locker room.

 _Not_ _again_ , she thinks as her breathing rises and she leaning against the corridor wall for support, _twice in just one hour._ As her panic attack reaches its peak, she prays that the man just stays inside the locker room, no one should see her like this.

Just as her breathing is finally slowing down, thankfully the panic attack wasn't an extensive one, she hears a new, soft voice over her shoulder. "Hey, are you alright there?"

Her widened eyes just see a flash of purple before she sprints off in the opposite direction. Alaska can't deal with anyone else today, two panic attacks was enough. Slowing her pace when she realises she isn't being followed, Alaska thanks whoever when she realises she's going the correct direction for the dormitories. After a ten minute walk, she finally reaches her unused room, using the finger scanner to let herself in.

Dust, it was everywhere in her room but she couldn't bring herself to care as she flopped down on her bed, sighing in bliss. It had been so long since she'd last been in a real bed, not on some hard terrain. Drifting off into a well needed sleep, Alaska only has one thought on her mind.

_This is going to be a long week._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, I would love to hear your feedback!:3

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment, I would love to hear your feedback!:3


End file.
